


Thank You, Carol

by Megaeevee



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bottom Negan (Walking Dead), Don't Try This At Home, Dubious Consent, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Mentions of past abuse, Multiple Orgasms, Not a Love Story, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Woman on Top, but not a hate story either, carol has issues, negan has issues, this is kind of revenge fucking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 19:36:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20476388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megaeevee/pseuds/Megaeevee
Summary: She was straddling his chest, pinning his wrists with one hand above his head and with the other she held her knife against his throat. His face was illuminated by the moonlight, looking up at her with curiosity and faint surprise.It was her first time seeing the man up close and one of the few times she had seen him at all. He was handsome, she supposed, if a little aged. Like herself. She looked down at him, studying him, while he obviously seemed to be waiting for her to make the first move.She ignored that. They had all night, and she had been waiting for this for a long time - longer than she’d even realised, since the first time she had seen Daryl after he had come back from the Sanctuary.





	Thank You, Carol

**Author's Note:**

> first off, this is based on the show and totally disregards the comics.
> 
> i completely made up the layout of alexandria, and i assumed that after everything had burned down and got rebuilt that they managed to get electricity and running water back up and running again, which i have no idea is true or not.
> 
> also, if you like this, i have ideas for a sequel that i may write, so make sure to like and comment if you're interested

Carol stood in the shadows and watched. Negan was standing in the kitchen window doing dishes. He was wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It was hard to tell from where she was hiding, between the two houses across the street, but she thought he might be humming. He appeared vaguely disgusted every time he had to fish around in the dirty water for cutlery that had fallen to the bottom.

In other words, he looked totally normal.

She hated him. She hated him for what he had done to Daryl, and she hated that he was allowed to stand there and seem so ordinary. She hated that she had had to deal with the aftermath of him, and he might not even know she existed.

Carol waited until Negan had turned away from the window, before emerging from her cover. It was dark, but of course there were no streetlights. Everybody else drew their curtains at night, a leftover habit from the road, where any light would attract walkers. 

But not Negan. He had never been on the road. His window shone like a beacon at sea.

Carol was careful to avoid the square of light that fell onto his back yard.

Negan’s house was on the corner, tucked away out of sight and mind in the back of Alexandria. Well, almost. There was a row of three houses beyond it, the ones that Carol was using for concealment, that faced the side of Negan’s house.

All of these, and several on the same street as Negan’s, were empty.

Carol snuck across the road, going diagonally and heading straight for Negan’s back wall. There were no fences around the yards in Alexandria, since during the rebuilding they had deemed it a waste of wood. Of course, one could also say that the seven (six now that Negan had one) vacant houses, hidden and forgotten, were an even bigger waste. And one would be right.

Carol leaned against the wall and listened, but the window was closed and she couldn’t hear anything from inside the house. She looked to her left and saw first the window, almost right next to her head (and it made something in her burn that Negan was so close), and beyond it the back door.

Negan returned to the sink, and she could see his shadow moving in the patch of light. It was all distorted due to the grass being left uncut, making Negan look misshapen and monstrous. The dishes and cutlery that he picked up could have been claws or weapons.

Carol waited patiently until he was finished. Nobody came by and asked her what she was doing - a good thing, because she wasn’t sure she could have explained it. The nearest people were three houses down from Negan, still within screaming range, but neither they nor anyone else would have a reason to come down this way.

When Negan turned out the light, Carol had to sit tight until her eyes adjusted to the perfect darkness again. She blinked rapidly, trying to fix them faster. Her hand compulsively gripped the hilt of her knife. She was totally tense as she waited, feeling like there were walkers everywhere, just waiting to sneak up on her while she couldn’t see. Or, even worse, that Negan had spotted her and was at that very moment about to bludgeon her over the head.

That didn’t happen. Nothing had moved in the time that she had been blind. It was almost eerie how still it was. The hollow houses stared down at her with their blank eyes, and Carol nearly shivered. It felt like they knew what she was about to do and were judging her for it, although she didn’t even know herself what she intended.

She ducked under the window and moved quickly to the back door. She listened again and also heard nothing. Slowly, she raised her head to peer in through the glass panes in the door. The kitchen was empty. All she could see of the rest of the house was a shadowy corridor leading off it.

She tried the doorknob, but of course it was locked. On this point, Negan was like the rest of Alexandria. After first the wolves and then Jocelyn, they were all well aware that the walls did not keep them safe from everything. 

Negan had also not left any of the windows out back open. Carol had not seen any open out front either when she had snuck by earlier, and she didn’t want to break the glass and risk alerting Negan.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself, banging her fist against the wall.

She hadn’t thought this through. She’d come out impulsively, with only the desire to finally meet the man who had tortured her best friend on her mind. 

Maybe it was a good thing she couldn’t get in though. She didn’t want to kill someone in their own home while they were defenceless, and while she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have killed Negan, she didn’t know herself as well as she’d like. Who knows what she might have done if she’d been able to get in? 

And how much trouble would she have been in if she’d been found out?

She gave the inside of the house one last look, before turning to go. Carol stuck close to the house as she followed it around to the front. Another habit from the old days, keeping close to cover so you were less likely to be spotted. As if there was anybody around here to catch her.

When she got to the front of the property, she was able to see around the corner. Carol did a quick check of the front porch, in case Negan had decided to sit outside, and then peered around it to look down his street.

Almost identical houses lined one side of the road, of the typical Alexandrian style; large, big porches, lots of windows. On the other side were the plots of land used for growing crops. The field took up a big space in the middle of Alexandria. During the day, it would be busy out there, even down at this end. Now, everyone had gone to bed and it was seemingly deserted.

After Negan’s, there were three empty houses and then Aaron’s, where he lived with Gracie. He might have still been up, but all of his blinds and shutters were closed to block out the light. Either way, Carol felt sure he was not out and about and likely to catch her in the act.

Satisfied that she was alone, Carol darted away from Negan’s house into the street. 

When she was a sufficient distance away that no one would think she had been visiting Negan’s house in particular, she straightened up and slowed to a walk. If anyone did happen to come by, she would tell them she couldn’t sleep and wanted some fresh air. It wasn’t unreasonable, given what had happened with the Whisperers.

She kept her head high and her pace sedate, trying not to feel disappointed. Tried to tell herself that Negan wasn’t worth it anyway, that whatever she did to him would have hurt herself more than him in the end.

When she was almost at Aaron’s house, she looked back, just once. And froze.

One of Negan’s windows, just above the porch roof, was open.

You could climb onto the awning and get in, she thought.

If the layout of his house was the same as the others, that window would open onto one of the smaller bedrooms. Had Negan forgotten about it and left it open accidentally, or did he actually use that room?

Carol hovered in the street, half turned around. If Aaron glanced out of his window, he would see her. But she wasn’t thinking about that anymore. She was thinking about how she could boost herself off the porch railing, and what would happen if she found Negan asleep in that room.

She unconsciously touched the handle of her knife. She hadn’t brought a gun. She wondered, if she’d had a clearer goal in mind when she left Daryl asleep in the other room, if she would have brought one.

It didn’t matter now. She’d just have to make do, she decided. What other chance would she ever get to see Negan privately and catch him off guard?

Carol took a step away from Aaron’s house.

But what was going to happen after this? She’d have to make sure Negan didn’t tell anyone that she’d broken into his house. People often told her that she was frightening, but she didn’t think a man like Negan would scare easy.

Then again, apparently he was turning over a new leaf. And he’d been locked away for a long time. A long time of not going outside the walls, of little physical activity, of being safe. That kind of thing made you weak. 

Maybe Carol wasn’t sure of what she was, but she knew she wasn’t weak.

She took another step forward, glancing back over her shoulder. 

The street was still empty. Aaron’s home was still dark.

She strode forward with purpose now, almost jogging, turning her head constantly to make sure she wasn’t being watched. She paused on the sidewalk outside Negan’s house and took a moment to calm herself. She took a deep breath, and the refreshing night air helped to settle her nerves.

In order to keep herself out of view, Carol moved around to the side of the house. There was a space between the porch railing and the floor, which she put her foot into, and used the top of the railing to hoist herself up. Then, thinking in her head that she might be too old for breaking and entering, she got her leg up onto the banister and balanced precariously as she raised herself, stretching her fingers up to grip the edge of the canopy.

She almost lost her balance, and her dignity, but she managed to get her fingers over the edge of the roof and steady herself. Then, slowly, she stood and peeked over the lip. The window was still open, but she couldn’t see inside from this angle. The awning itself was pretty flat, only sloping slightly downwards. If she could pull herself up, it would be easy to get in. 

Now that she thought about it, they probably shouldn’t have put the porches back in when they were rebuilding, given how much of a security hazard they could turn out to be.

Grunting, Carol lifted herself, using her elbows for leverage. Once she got her belly up, it wasn’t difficult to crawl the rest of the way onto the small roof. The window she was going to use wasn’t very high up from the top of the roof, and Carol had ended up directly under it. She lay still, panting and trying to catch her breath, while simultaneously listening for any sound from within the house.

When it was once again silent, she raised herself on her elbows and got a look inside the room.

There were the bare minimal furnishings that had been put in back when they all thought these houses were going to get used; a single bed in one corner, a nightstand, a dresser, and a chair in the opposite corner. The bed was undisturbed. Negan wasn’t sleeping here.

So then, why was this window open?

Carol managed to maneuver herself around so she could go in feet first. She made a soft thump when she hit the ground. She stood very still, drawing her knife from her belt, waiting to see if Negan had heard her.

When a minute passed and Negan did not come bursting into the room, she relaxed and moved forward.

Knife at the ready, she quietly opened the bedroom door. The hallway was dark and blank, not even a framed picture decorating it. All the doors were shut, giving it a very closed off feel. Knowing the layout of the other houses, the master bedroom would be behind the door right across from her.

Carol stepped lightly out. She hadn’t realised until right then how much adrenaline was pumping through her - the same amount there always was when she was on a mission. It made being slow and careful that much harder.

She crossed the hall and reached out to put her hand on the doorknob. She put her ear to the door, but heard nothing. She wondered, crazily, if all this nothing she was hearing was because Negan had gone out. Wouldn’t it be funny if she was sneaking about in an empty house?

The master bedroom was not locked. The door swung soundlessly inward, revealing another sparsely decorated room. The only differences were the double bed and the lump in the middle of it.

There was a window across the room, closed, that shone moonlight onto the bed. Negan appeared to be sleeping on his side, facing away from the door. Carol could, finally, hear him breathing.

Her hand flexed on her knife as she crept toward the bed. In her head, she was imagining different scenarios of this encounter; some where she had to use it, some where she didn’t; some where Negan agreed to keep quiet, some where she killed him.

When she got to the foot of the bed, she was unprepared for Negan to roll over and say,

“You here to kill me? ‘Cause if you are, you picked a fine fucking night.”

Cursing, Carol jumped on the bed. Negan instinctively fought back, but like Carol had suspected, he was out of practice and not in great shape, and she quickly overpowered him. Although, despite the fact that he was panting after their brief altercation, she noted that he hadn’t seemed to be giving it his all.

She was straddling his chest, pinning his wrists with one hand above his head and with the other she held her knife against his throat. His face was illuminated by the moonlight, looking up at her with curiosity and faint surprise. 

It was her first time seeing the man up close and one of the few times she had seen him at all. He was handsome, she supposed, if a little aged. Like herself. She looked down at him, studying him, while he obviously seemed to be waiting for her to make the first move.

She ignored that. They had all night, and she had been waiting for this for a long time - longer than she’d even realised, since the first time she had seen Daryl after he had come back from the Sanctuary.

Negan looked nicer without his hair slicked back, was her first concrete thought about him. It lay messily about his face, short little curls. Carol tightened her grip on his wrists when she had the weird urge to tug on them.

“Well,” Negan said softly into the darkness, “aren’t you a surprise. Did someone send you, or did I do some horrible shit to one of your loved ones and you’re here to avenge them?”

Carol was unsure how much of her he could see in the dark. Was it that, or did he really not know who she was? She pressed the knife further into his neck, until a drop of dark liquid welled up and rolled onto the pillow.

“The second one, huh?” Negan said gently. “Why don’t you tell me who it was, and I’ll tell you how fucking sorry I am, and then we can both be on our merry way. Not that this isn’t fun - which, believe me, this is the most fucking action I have seen in years - but if you came here to murder me in my sleep, that’s not going to fucking happen.”

The second concrete thought she had about him was that she wanted to make him cry. In pain, in sadness, in guilt, in pleasure or happiness - she didn’t know, but she supposed they were both going to find out soon.

“Daryl,” she breathed. Then, stronger, “It was Daryl. You tortured him, you humiliated him, you…”

Carol trailed off, because she didn’t know what else he had done. She hadn’t been there. She hadn’t been there for Daryl. She’d been off living her fairytale fantasy in the woods.

“Yeah, I did,” Negan agreed. “I did do that. And I really am fucking sorry.”

Carol’s hand shook on the knife. She withdrew it a bit, because she didn’t want to accidentally cut his throat open.

She didn’t know where to go from here. She always thought she’d have to work for this, to struggle to get the apology out of Negan. She’d never expected him to just offer it up without a fight. Not only that, but she believed he was sincere.

It should have been enough for her. To hear him admit that what he’d done was wrong and that he felt guilty for it. Hell, it wasn’t even her that he’d wronged. 

But it wasn’t enough.

She’d expected the fight. She’d even been looking forward to it. What she got… It was like a ruined orgasm. All the build up and none of the release.

And it made her angry that it wasn’t enough. Because if it wasn’t enough from Negan, then how could it have been enough from Ed? All these years she’d had a similar fantasy about him - making him apologise for what he’d put her through or even acknowledge that he had been wrong. It had been a source of comfort for her.

But now that she knew how dissatisfying it really was, that had been destroyed.

“You’re the little queen, aren’t you? That’s why I haven’t seen you around before,” Negan continued. “I had a feeling someone was sneaking around earlier, but I was honestly expecting it to be Maggie again. So I’m curious; why now? Why not come see me before?”

“I was busy,” Carol said plainly, if not a little shamefully.

Busy running a kingdom, busy having a nice husband, busy raising a son. Busy taking days off to visit Daryl in the woods. Too busy to visit Negan.

Negan laughed in surprise. It was quiet and short, but she could see his face, and he was looking up at her differently. With amusement, and also respect.

How dare he? She didn’t need his respect or his judgement. He had no business looking at her like that, like she might care what he thought of her. He could keep his opinions to himself.

“Shut up,” Carol demanded, even though he had stopped laughing. “Shut up.”

She took the hand holding the knife away from his throat and backhanded him. It wasn’t a good hit; she didn’t have the right angle, but Negan still jerked and let out a pained grunt. She supposed that when you hadn’t been hit for a long time it hurt more when it finally came.

“Shit,” Negan gasped, head still turned away from the force of the hit.

Carol sat back, needing to put some space between them suddenly.

For the first time, she noticed that she was sitting on Negan’s bare chest. The sheets had slid down to his stomach. She wondered, in a detached sort of way, if he was naked under them. She wondered what it would be like if she let him fuck her. She wondered if she could convince him.

After all, he did owe her an orgasm.

Carol found that she was breathing heavily. Whether from anger, shock at her own actions, or disbelief at what she might be about to do, she didn’t know. What she did know was that an unfamiliar heat had started in her groin.

Negan slowly turned his head back to look at her. In the dark, Carol was unsure how much damage she had done to his face, but she could see his features twisted in his own anger. He flexed, testing her grip on his wrists. In response, she pushed them down into the pillow harder, while her cunt spasmed.

He didn’t say a word.

Carol looked into his eyes, and maybe it was the moonlight shining on them that caused a distortion, but she could swear his pupils were dilated. He was panting again too.

Now, Carol was faced with a dilemma. She’d gotten what she came here for. She could get up and leave right now. Or she could stay and get a little more.

Was it wrong to want to fuck the man who had tortured your best friend? To want to make him scream and cry and beg? Carol thought it probably was. But then again, couldn’t sex be its own kind of torture?

Slowly, ensuring Negan could make out what she was doing, Carol slipped her knife back into its sheath. Then, she moved her hand to his throat, holding lightly, using her thumb to stroke his jaw. She took a moment just to drag her thumb over his stubble, to feel him breathing under her hand, to feel when he swallowed.

Was it wrong that having Negan at her mercy made her cunt ache?

“I think,” she whispered kindly, almost as if she were talking to a child, leaning close, “that you need to make up for what you’ve done. Don’t you?”

She squeezed slightly, not hard enough to cut off the airway, but Negan still missed a breath. His next inhalation was almost a moan. He wet his lips and nodded.

“Good,” Carol said. “I’m going to let go of your wrists now, and you’re going to keep them right there for me. Aren’t you?”

He nodded eagerly, shifting his wrists so he could hold onto the bars of the headboard. He watched her as she slid down his body, naked chest rising and falling noticeably.

Carol stopped when she was kneeling between his spread legs. She put her hand where his knee was under the sheets and ran it up his leg, stopping just before his crotch, just watching him back as she stroked her thumb up and down until he shivered.

Then, she got out of bed.

She maintained eye contact the whole time she was toeing off her boots, unbuckling her belt, and stepping out of her pants and underwear. She kept her shirt on. When she was done, Carol casually reached down and tore the bed sheets off, exposing Negan’s body. He flinched at the suddenness of it and the cool air.

He was already hard.

Climbing back onto the bed to inspect him, Carol wished for a second that she’d turned on a light, but the wish was gone the next second. This was an affair better left to the darkness, she thought. 

Plus, there was a part of her that didn’t even want to look at him. A part that was repulsed by men in general. With Ezekial, it had gradually been beaten down and silenced, but with other men it still reared its ugly head. Even with Daryl occasionally.

The third thing she thought about him was that Negan had a good dick. Not too long, but pretty thick, and with a curve that would allow it to hit the sweet spot. Carol laid down between Negan’s legs so she could be eye level with it, close enough that her breath hit it. Negan never took his eyes off of her, his own breathing becoming strained the closer she got to his dick.

Carol hesitated, steeling herself, before she ran her finger lightly up the underside, watching as it twitched. As usual, the disgust withered away to almost nothing once she got started. The tip was already shiny and as she touched it, precum dribbled out. Above her, Negan jerked and moaned, head dropping back onto the pillow.

“How long’s it been?” she asked, wickedly curious, as she ran her finger up again.

“Fuck,” Negan breathed, a sound like a whimper caught in his throat.

The only noise in the room for a minute was his heavy breathing. Carol didn’t touch him again as she waited for him to answer.

“Eight years,” he said eventually. “I haven’t fucking… touched anybody for eight years.”

Carol ignored that last part. She was done with emotions for the night. And anyway, if she acknowledged that Negan had any, she might have to acknowledge that certain other people had had some too.

Instead, she thought about not having sex for eight years. His stamina must be all shot to hell, and that just wouldn’t do.

“Did you touch yourself?” she asked. He stifled a moan. “Hmmm? Did you jerk off every night?”

Carol caressed the head of his penis, still just with one finger.

“Yes,” Negan answered, strained.

She hummed disapprovingly, removing her finger. She abandoned his dick, crawling back up to his chest. Negan watched her hungrily, eyes blown wide and looking a little dazed. Carol found that she much preferred this look.

She tipped his head back further, exposing his throat which still bore the scar from when Rick had cut it open. This was the angle she really liked, staring directly down at him. 

How much would Negan let her get away with? The look in his eyes said everything. She’d never been in this position before. She’d never felt the urge with Ezekial. Her cunt spasmed.

Was this feeling the reason Ed had been like he was?

Carol found herself with the urge to slap Negan again, to see if he would like it this time. And the part that really made her wet was that she could. Negan would let her and she had the feeling there would be no repercussions. 

Her mind immediately filled with a thousand other things she wanted to do to him, and she had to consider carefully how long she could draw this out, because she knew she wouldn’t get another chance. No matter how much he was enjoying this, Negan surely wouldn’t tolerate another break-in.

Besides, at some point (probably soon) Carol would return to the Kingdom to be with Ezekial. Their breakup was never meant to be forever.

So, she had this single time to have Negan however she wanted him, before they both had to return to real life.

Negan must have read some of this on her face, because he shifted restlessly underneath her, pushing his head further into her hand. She wondered for a moment why he didn’t just say whatever he wanted to tell her, and then she came to the earth shattering realization that he didn’t want to speak because she’d told him to shut up earlier.

How would she ever be able to give this up? How would she be able to go back home and pretend she enjoyed ordinary, when she knew she had this waiting for her?

Negan seemed to be begging for her with his body. His eyes trailed desperately along the hidden lines of her breasts and down to her cunt, mostly covered by her shirt. He was still holding onto the headboard, arms flexed and straining with the effort not to touch her. 

Suddenly, an idea began to form in her head of what she wanted to do tonight.

She squirmed eagerly, rubbing her cunt against the heat of Negan’s chest and doubtlessly leaving a wet smear. He whimpered at the feeling, and Carol felt his hips jerk uselessly.

“Do you want to be a good boy for me?” Carol asked, squeezing his throat again.

“Yes,” Negan moaned. “Yes, fuck, yes.”

“Ask me nicely.”

“Please,” Negan begged immediately. “I’ll be so fucking good, please let me show you. Whatever you want. Please.”

Carol groaned, grinding against his chest again. She only hoped he would live up to his promise.

Before she let go of his neck, she caught his eye and said, “You can touch me now. But only me.”

Negan’s hands were instantly gone from the headboard, and Carol steeled herself against her automatic reaction to having a strange man’s hands on her. It was gone in an instant as Negan’s hands smoothed rapturously up her thighs. He avoided her crotch, instead holding on to her hip with one hand and using the other to cup a breast through her shirt.

Carol shivered as he brushed his thumb over her nipple. The hand on her hip held her steady as he began to play with it properly. The added layer of fabric made the sensations feel even more strong as it rubbed against the hard nipple. For a minute, she let Negan take the reigns somewhat as she enjoyed being pleasured.

Soon, Carol found herself with her head tipped back and eyes closed, which she immediately rectified. Negan was looking up at her with such reverence and open desire, she almost couldn’t stand it. But as long as he didn’t start calling her ‘your majesty’, she thought she may actually be able to learn to like it.

“Stop,” she ordered breathlessly.

Negan’s hands promptly fell away from her, bunching up in the sheets as he fought the desire to touch - whether it was himself or her he was more desperate for, she didn’t know.

Lifting herself onto her knees, she shuffled forward until her cunt was above Negan’s face. He raised his head, desperately trying to get a taste, but Carol kept herself just out of reach, teasing him until he settled down. She reached down and finally got her hand in those curls, using them to keep him place.

“If you do a good job, maybe I’ll let you cum later. Alright?” she murmured.

Negan let out a choked groan at that, eyes burning, but a restless energy that Carol hadn’t fully noticed until now seemed to absolve in him, leaving him laying calm and pliant under her. For the first time, Carol realised that he might be getting something out of this beyond just sex as well.

She wondered if he was always like this. Surely not, otherwise his past wives would have fed it into the rumour mill by now. But somebody had obviously had him well-trained. So was this special then, his obedience and docility?

Carol suddenly wanted to run from this responsibility that had snuck up on her, and to distract herself from it, she lowered herself down onto Negan’s face, one hand tugging on his hair as he rapidly got to work and the other hand braced against the headboard. 

The feeling of his stubble on the inside of her thighs reminded her of Ezekial, just for a second, but the way they had sex was so different, comparisons flew out of her head before they could even be fully formed. Well, and because of what was happening between her legs.

Negan was good. Good enough that if he was a little out of practice, she hardly noticed. He ate pussy like he genuinely enjoyed it, a skill not many could men could boast about, and he seemed used to this position, adjusting quickly to Carol grinding on his face.

He moaned every time Carol did, as if he was getting off on her gratification, although he was good and didn’t touch himself. He would also make these higher pitched whines every time she pulled his hair, which she made sure to do when he was doing a particularly good job. 

“Touch me again,” Carol demanded breathlessly, when she was close but it wasn’t quite enough.

Negan grabbed her hips, holding her steady as he got a better angle. Carol moaned, accidentally giving his hair a specially hard yank when he was able to focus on her clit more effectively.

Carol came for the first time, quietly, hips jerking and pussy spasming as Negan licked her through it. It was great - better than she’d had in a while. Was it so good because she’d been pent up, or because she liked being in control?

Negan kept going. He concentrated on her clit, as she shuddered through the aftershocks and questioned her motivations. He didn’t stop when she was finished, just made a happy little humming sound and continued eating her out.

Carol wasn’t going to complain. She glanced behind her, once, when Negan had slowed down for a few moments, and saw that his dick was practically dripping with precom, a fat drop dribbling out as she watched and hanging there suspended before falling onto his stomach.

Then, Negan did something different with his tongue and she found herself looking down into his eyes, half lidded as if he was struggling to keep them open and not get lost in his task, but still with that same look of adoration.

She tugged his hair to break the moment, his eyes sliding shut, and she found it was better when he wasn’t looking at her.

She came for the second time a few minutes later, stronger than the first and managing to pull some audible pants out of her. Again, he didn’t stop.

She wondered how many times she could cum before she got too sensitive to go on. She’d never found out, but she might learn tonight.

Negan, she thought as she made a sound she’d never heard before, certainly seemed determined to get her there.

And she was content to let him - until, when Negan’s stubble rasped against her in a familiar way, she suddenly remembered about Ezekial. He should be the one to take her to her limits and ease her back down again, not Negan. And what if Negan did? Would she spend the rest of her life comparing them? Irrationally, she felt a little guilty for even sleeping with Negan at all - even though she and Ezekial had broken up - because she knew who would win if she compared them in bed.

But… Carol had had so few positive encounters with men in her life, that she felt she should take advantage of them when they appeared.

Besides, she acknowledged as Negan edged her closer and closer to her third orgasm, she wasn’t sure she could get up right now anyway, given how much her thighs were shaking.

Negan’s hands were staying on her hips, tongue working double time, delving deep into her and swirling around her clit. Carol took her hand off the headboard, trusting Negan to keep her balanced, and brought it to her breast, pinching and rolling her nipple through the shirt that she'd kept on.

It was enough to push her over the edge again. 

This one came from deep within her, leaving her breathless and her chest heaving. She allowed Negan to continue through the aftershocks until she'd caught her breath.

“Stop,” she said, pulling his head away forcibly.

She moved away from his face, a string of juice connecting her cunt to his mouth until it snapped. Negan’s mouth and jaw were shiny wet, his lips red and full, open as he gasped for air. His eyes had opened, staring silently and waiting for her command.

Carol had him laying pliantly under her, grip firm in his hair. She was perfectly sated, a sense of satisfaction starting in her cunt and radiating outward. She could leave right now. She could leave him with nothing.

She took her hand away, planting both of them on his chest for leverage as she moved down his body, making sure to avoid touching his leaking cock. His hands fell away from her hips, twisting in the sheets.

Carol knelt between his legs again and put her hands on his thighs and felt that they were trembling. Negan inhaled sharply, tensing in anticipation. He still had that faraway look in his eyes, the doey eyed look that said everything was still a little fuzzy around the edges. 

But he seemed to be able to focus on her well enough, and now that the glow of orgasm was starting to fade from her, Carol could feel the aversion to the male form creeping up on her again and she wanted to finish this while she could.

She transferred her stare from his face to his dick, watching as it twitched under her gaze.

“Do you think you’ve been good?” she asked neutrally, not taking her eyes off his slick cock but interested in his honest answer.

“Please,” he begged, writhing on the bed. “Fuck. Fuck, please.”

Not quite the answer she was looking for. But she already knew what she thought, and she supposed that her opinion about it was the only one that mattered. Still, not answering a direct question was not a good boy thing to do.

She hummed mock thoughtfully, sliding a hand up his thigh, stopping tantalizingly close to his dick.

She held onto his thigh so he couldn’t move, reaching out with her other hand to touch him. He jolted when she finally put her hand around him, cursing under his breath. Carol went slowly, knowing this wouldn’t take long, holding him down so he couldn’t thrust up. In fact, she hardly moved her hand at all, running her thumb over the head and just taking in the feel and shape of his cock.

But after so long without any touch, it was obviously enough for him.

Negan quaked under her. It seemed he had lost the ability to speak; all he was able to do was gasp and moan as Carol teased him. 

It was a good thing there were no neighbours around to hear them, otherwise Negan might be quite embarrassed in the morning. Then again, if accounts of him were true, maybe he wouldn’t be.

Carol watched him closely, knowing he had been close when she started and recognising that he was about to cum when his breathing sped up and his moans turned into low whimpers at the back of his throat.

She quickened her hand for the last few seconds and then, when he started to cum, she took it away.

It was ruined. Negan sobbed, arching his back, as his dick jerked, dribbling out cum onto his stomach. Carol was unsure how long he came for, if it was actually a long time or if it just seemed that way because she was enjoying watching him. He was crying, tears trickling down his temples, from the painful build up and disappointing release.

He didn’t reach down to try and salvage his orgasm, just begged her brokenly, until it was over and all he’d gotten was a mess of cum all over his stomach and face.

Carol felt like she could go for round two, wet again after what she’d just done, but she knew it was about time for her to leave.

Without a word, she wiped her hand on his sheets, getting up from the bed and tugging on her jeans and stepping into her boots. She didn’t look at Negan again, but she could tell from the quality of his breathing that he was still crying, calming down after what had been an intense encounter. 

Carol herself had yet to even start reacting to what they had done tonight. She felt… emotionless, detached.

“Good boy,” she threw out as she headed for the door, figuring she should at least leave him with something.

Maybe when she got home she would freak out. Sleeping with Negan was certainly worth some sort of breakdown, she supposed. But what if she didn’t? What did that say about her?

She opened the door onto Negan’s deserted landing and as it swung closed, she heard;

“Thank you.”


End file.
